It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. "I am so excessively fond of snuff. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken floor.
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